


What Happens in Paris...

by LunarHermit



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Between S01 & S02, Bonding, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarHermit/pseuds/LunarHermit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first real mission together after Skye accepted May as her S.O. goes south. May makes Skye her priority. Skye’s not afraid to admit to herself that she likes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Paris...

**Author's Note:**

> Unashamedly addicted to AoS. Love the whole May/Skye family dynamic, but I also enjoy the occasional May/Skye ship fic. Which is this? I don't really know; I couldn’t decide beforehand so I had no plan going in. It could swing either way, I guess, though after re-reading I’m like 95% leaning towards familial for this one… Either way it sets me up for a few possible sequels. What do you think?

**0-o-0-o-0**

“Comms are down.” Skye puffed out after a few tense minutes of trying to hail the others. Not getting a response, Skye glanced over at her S.O. with the intention to repeat herself only for the words to die in her throat.

May was pissed.

Oh, the other woman’s face was in its usual expressionless mask, and to the outside observer May would appear apathetic and unruffled at best. Skye, however, had spent the past few months practically glued to the older agent’s side whilst being put through the training regime from hell to fix and improve upon what Ward had half-heartedly taught her. 

May was tough, but not harsh. She pushed Skye’s limits – sometimes further than Skye was comfortable with – but always knew when to stop before it became too much for the younger agent to handle. She was so far from being a pushover that it was laughable, but she was fair and – most importantly – she genuinely seemed to care.

And it wasn’t only about how many push-ups Skye did in a day, or how much of the survival manual Skye actually read before she became distracted. May cared about Skye; each night she made sure that Skye was uninjured from the day’s training, gave her disapproving looks when she accidentally skipped meals, and was always willing to listen no matter the time of day or night. May didn’t do anything by halves, so when she made the decision to take Skye under her wing she did it with the same single minded focus that she utilised to keep Coulson safe.

May asked for trust, and in return gave so much more.

And that meant something to Skye. Actually, that meant a lot to Skye. And so Skye did her best to return the favor. She rarely complained at the grueling schedule she was expected to adhere to, and when she did it was more playful than anything else. She studied the many dry books and manuals May assigned her to read, listened to the information her S.O. imparted, and tried her best to learn and follow the rules despite her own misgivings.

What May might not have intended, however, was that combat tactics and survival tips weren’t the only things Skye studied. Though May was definitely warmer towards her than when she was first hustled onto the Bus with that annoying bag over her head all those months ago, it came to Skye one night that the older woman might not know how to blatantly show what she was feeling like Skye did. And so, whenever she could, Skye would study May.

Coulson had said that Bahrain changed May - made her lock away her emotions behind thick walls and turrets and an acid moat and a dragon and a thousand ninja samurai with double barreled shotguns - and that was okay. If May was willing to care for Skye despite her past proving just how much of an undesirable fuck-up she actually was, well then Skye would care for May and look for alternate routes into the castle where she knew it was safe and warm. It took a few embarrassing blunders and setbacks, and a lot of patience, but Skye was now proud to admit that she could usually guess with some accuracy as to what her S.O. was feeling.

(It was a work in progress. May had caught on early to what she was doing, and had almost amusedly reinforced her mask. Nowadays Skye was given meaningful glimpses through her S.O.’s stoic front as a reward for a job well done, or for impressing the unflinching woman. Unsurprisingly, that kind of incentive had Skye redoubling her efforts. Also unsurprisingly, Skye vowed to never play poker against one Agent Melinda May.)

And right now the slight inflection in her voice and the flashing eyes were telling her that Coulson was going to get a good talking to, status as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. be damned. Their first real mission together since Skye had accepted May as her Supervising Officer was supposed to be a quiet in-and-out data retrieval; instead, they were hiding in a supply closet with empty clips and way too many commandoes hunting them for Skye to feel even remotely comfortable. The only reason she wasn’t currently freaking out more than she was, besides her lack of breath, was because, well, she was with _May_. 

Whom, okay, looked ready to verbally and possibly physically rip into whoever had screwed up their mission intel this badly, _yes_ , but who was also a kickass ninja of pure awesome.

“Is the data secure?” May’s eyes flickered briefly away from scanning the hallway to meet Skye’s, and the intensity in them had the hacker instinctively patting one of her pockets.

For a brief moment, Skye felt an irrational burst of panic within her rise before her hand touched a small lump, the light crinkle of the air-tight baggy surrounding the USB stick immediately soothing her worry. With an inaudible sigh of relief, Skye nodded affirmatively. “Yep.”

May nodded in acceptance, alertly scanning the hall once more before pushing the door open. “Coast won’t stay clear for long. We move now.”

Scurrying quickly after the retreating woman, Skye caught up easily, her training obviously beginning to pay off. Staying half a step behind the always vigilant agent, she silently went over her breathing exercises in an attempt to slow her racing heart, all the while throwing quick nervous glances over her shoulder. With the way the mission was going so far, she almost expected someone to jump down from one of the ceiling vents at their back.

Instead, she began to hear the faint echo of combat boots slapping rhythmically against the hard linoleum.

“Um, May?” Skye bit her lip as she nervously looked behind them again. She still couldn’t see anyone, but it was only a matter of time. Time they didn’t have. 

“I hear them,” May acknowledged coolly, though her pace did pick up significantly.

Skye followed her lead as they both broke into a run. It was to the younger agent’s skyrocketing nerves, then, that they turned with the hallway and came to a screeching halt. A solitary window stood overlooking the River Seine, the water dark and foreboding in the cool night. There were no doors, no new hallways. A dead end.

“You can take them, right?” Skye asked with wavering confidence. A long glance, a slight frown. Skye’s voice rose an octave as she practically started to beg. “May, please tell me that you can kick their asses.”

May gave a slow half nod before pausing. Eyes narrowed slightly, she appraised the younger agent before changing her mind. “No.”

“What? Then what are we-” Skye started eyes wide.

“Can you swim?” May cut Skye off abruptly, her searching gaze demanding honesty.

“I- well- I guess,” Skye stumbled over her words, confused at the abrupt and seemingly random topic change. She didn’t understand why May was asking if she could swim when they were moments away from getting mowed down by goons with guns. “Sorta.”

“Yes or no, Skye,” May repeated her question, a sense of urgency finally leaking into her voice as she grabbed the younger agent’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “Can you swim?”

“Yes,” Skye blurted out immediately. She had just enough time to see a brief glimpse of relief pass over May’s features before she was being bodily shoved out the nearest fourth story window.

Startled scream getting choked up in her throat and escaping as more of a strangled squeak, Skye had just enough sense of mind to close her mouth before she was hitting the frigid waters with a loud splash. A large stream of bubbles burst from her mouth at the shock before she was able to clamp down on the involuntary exhale. Holding what was left of her breath, her lungs started to burn as she thrashed and scrambled in what she hoped was an upward direction.

Panic overtaking her, she just managed to break through to the surface with a deep gasp before she was sinking underwater once more. This pattern repeated for what seemed like hours but was in reality no more than a handful of minutes before a strong hand was wrapping around her bicep and firmly pulling her upward. Eyesight too blurry to make out who had grabbed her, Skye struggled frantically as she simultaneously gasped for air and coughed up water.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” May murmured in Skye’s ear as she pulled the struggling girl flush against her own body. Feeling the younger agent pause in her flailing, May released her bicep and instead slipped her arm around the girl’s waist in a firm embrace, all the while treading water for the both of them. Feeling Skye’s body sink gratefully against her own, May began to scold her trainee, the audible relief cutting through her accusation and softening it considerably. “You said you could swim.”

Skye felt a hysterical laugh bubble up her chest and escape her throat in a hoarse whimper. Squeezing her arms tightly around May, she buried her face in the older agent’s neck. Through her racing heart and trembling body, all that Skye was able to manage was a few terrified squeaks and gasps.

“Remember your breathing exercises, Skye. Deep breaths. I won’t let you drown.” May coached the trembling bundle in her arms, her voice low and soothing in Skye’s ear. Feeling the girl attempt to comply, May exaggeratedly inhaled and exhaled. “That’s it. In and out. I’ve got you.”

Skye felt the movement of May’s chest as her lungs inflated and deflated, and used it as a template. It was slow going, but after a few long minutes of May’s coaching Skye was able to speak. Turning her head so that her ear rested against May’s neck, Skye mumbled hoarsely. “I thought you meant hypothetically.”

“Skye…” May’s voice was reproachful, the _‘you know better than that’_ being left unsaid.

“I can swim. Just, not well.” Skye admitted finally, almost sheepishly. 

The wind picked up as a crack of thunder rumbled across the sky, causing her to shiver again. Skye burrowed impossibly closer to May, the arms around her tightening in response while one hand rubbed her back soothingly.

“We’ll be moving your aquatic training up the list,” May stated with finality, her tone leaving no room for arguments.

“Okay,” Skye agreed quietly with a slight nod, another shiver wracking her slight frame. “M’c-cold.”

Feeling the trembling getting stronger, May attempted to extricate one of her arms only to have Skye violently protest. Feeling a pair of legs wrap tightly around her waist, the two sunk slightly before May was able to compensate. Holding in a sigh, she rubbed Skye’s back once again. “Skye, I need my arm.”

Frowning and grunting out a protest, Skye shook her head side to side against May’s neck. While she wasn’t usually so clingy – especially with her oft aloof S.O. – this was, to her, an acceptable exception. And May, as the reason for her being in this miserable situation in the first place, was just going to have to deal with it.

“We need to get you warm and dry, but you’re going to have to help me,” May explained patiently. After a few moments of no response, May’s voice gentled. “I won’t let you go, and I will get you out of here, but I need you to trust me to do it. The longer we stay in here, the higher the chance of you taking ill.”

Skye bit her lip and hesitated, before puffing out a breath against May’s neck in reluctant submission. Allowing her legs to slide down May’s hips, she started to clumsily tread water along with the older agent. Feeling one arm retreat from her waist had her heartrate climbing again, but the arm that was left tightened around her in reassurance. Glancing up at May for the first time since they entered the river, Skye gave a shaky nod.

“Good girl,” May murmured as she allowed a ghost of a smile to dance across her lips for a brief moment before turning her attention back to the task at hand. Slowly dragging Skye through the water towards the looming bridge, she softly encouraged her tired trainee to move her legs.

It took them nearly ten minutes at their slow pace before the sky rumbled loudly once more, heralding a downpour. Another five minutes and May was pushing Skye up onto the bank before hauling herself out of the water as well. Not bothering to wring out her hair or clothes due to the heavy rain that had started moments before, May instead quickly oriented herself before hauling Skye to her feet. Putting a supporting arm around her shoulder, and rubbing her hand briskly over Skye’s cold arm to create warmth, May allowed Skye to lean into her as she directed them up the bank and onto the sidewalk.

“Wh-where are we g-going?” Skye finally questioned as May practically dragged her down the street, the older agent’s stride full of purpose. Skye knew without a shadow of a doubt that May wasn’t walking aimlessly, but had a specific destination in mind.

“A hotel,” May replied shortly, busily scanning the street signs before pulling Skye into a different direction. Her hand, however, never stopped its ministrations on the younger agent’s arm.

“Wh-what?” Skye confusedly questioned through chattering teeth. “What about T-Tripp a-and Hartley’s team?”

“Comms are down and they’re late,” May replied before sighing lightly in relief as a familiar opulent building coming into view. “We did our part, got the data. Now you’re my priority. Come on, we’re almost there.”

Skye wanted to protest; something could have gone wrong on Tripp’s end, their fellow agents might need help, they should go back and see if they were just late… But she was chilled to the bone and dead on her feet, her continuous shivers swiftly sucking up what little strength she had left. So instead she nodded and let her head drop to May’s shoulder and let May call the shots, following without complaint as May guided her across the street and into a large fancy looking building.

Which was even fancier on the inside.

Eyebrows raising slightly, Skye took in the elegant décor; the beautifully arranged flowers and sparkling chandeliers, the shiny marble statues and floors, the gilded staircase. Feeling like she should whistle appreciatively but too tired too, Skye settled for a low mumble. 

“Swanky.”

Lip twitching at the understatement, May lead them up to the counter where a handsome young man was waiting, his blue eyes appraising their wet forms with barely concealed interest. Frowning as his eyes lingered on Skye too long for her liking, May cleared her throat sharply, a cool glare locking onto his startled gaze.

“Ah, bonjour Mademoiselle.” Normand, as his name-tag indicated, jumped back into a semblance of professionalism, visibly attempting to restrain his eyes from straying back to Skye’s shivering form. “As-tu un réservation?”

“Oui.” May’s voice was cold, clipped. She felt Skye turn into her further, a smile and a light snort being hidden in her neck, her glare sharpening as _Normand_ let his eyes wander again. “Sous Mason.”

“Ah, oui. Un moment sil-vous plaît.” The concierge busied himself on his computer for a few moments before blinking in surprise. Glancing between her and whatever was on the screen a few times before regaining his bearings, he cleared his throat nervously. He had, it seemed, finally found his wayward professionalism. “Très bien, Mademoiselle Mason. Ton numéro de chambre est-”

“Merci.” May cut the boy off dismissively as she grabbed the key card. Nudging Skye passed the opulent staircase and into the elevator, she pressed one of the higher numbered buttons, causing Skye to look at her quizzically.

“Wh-where a-are we?” Skye glanced again at the floor number lit up on the panel. “And how c-can we afford this?”

They were almost to their floor when May finally answered. “We’re at the Shangri-La Hotel.”

“And the other th-thing?” Skye sluggishly rambled as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Stumbling over her uncooperative feet, Skye would have fallen if it weren’t for May’s firm grip. “I don’t speak much F-French, but _réservation_ sounds like _reservation_ , and I-I know _oui_ means _yes_ , and wasn’t Tripp s-supposed to pick us up?”

“Yes,” May answered simply as they reached the right room. Slotting the card into the reader, a faint click sounded as their door unlocked. Pulling Skye into the room, she locked and dead-bolted the door behind them before exhaling, her tense stance relaxing slightly.

“Then how-?” Skye mumbled, confused, only to squeak in muted surprise as May bent down and hooked her free arm under Skye’s trembling legs before standing back up. Threading her arms around May’s neck and leaning her head on a strong shoulder, Skye’s line of questioning was momentarily forgotten as she quieted down, temporarily mollified by the embrace. Closing her eyes and sagging into the embrace, she sighed.

Goal in sight, May quickly and purposefully strode across the luxurious room into the equally lavish bathroom. Not stopping until she was standing in the middle of the large walk-in shower, she freed one arm momentarily and turned the taps. A stream of cold water burst from the shower head, causing Skye to startle in her arms before gradually settling down again with a grumble. Not wanting to cause either of them unnecessary pain by turning the hot water on too quickly, May slowly adjusted the taps to allow the water to warm slightly.

This process repeated itself over the course of the next ten minutes as they slowly adjusted to the warmer water, their body temperatures returning to near normal levels. Skye murmured happily as the steam filled the stall and kicked her shoes off before wiggling her semi-numb toes. A good portion of her lethargy lifted as the warmth seeped into her bones, and though she was still achy and tired, it was no more so than it would be after a particularly intense training session.

Feeling May start to let her down, Skye unconsciously made a protesting sound deep in her throat and latched on tighter, her legs wrapping securely around May’s waist for the second time that night. Nuzzling her still-cold nose into the warm neck before her, Skye hummed in slight surprise as a hand came to rest underneath her to support her weight, though she made no protest. Instead she snuggled in further.

She was close to May – physically close to the other woman like she had previously only experienced when being pinned on the mat – which meant she was safe. They were in a hot shower, which meant she was finally warm. And after almost drowning in an icy river - not to mention almost being shot to death by trigger-happy commandoes - those two factors were very important to Skye, and she was quite content to stay right where she was.

“Skye, we have to get you out of these clothes and washed up,” May coaxed gently, as if Skye were fragile and needed to be coddled. 

Which with the way she was acting all clingy-like, Skye admitted, wasn’t too far off the mark, and was actually sorta-kinda nice. May didn’t _do_ this, this whatever-this-was. She cared, yes. She could be gentle, yes. But this was _different_ , somehow, though Skye couldn’t pinpoint _how_ it was different. It just _was_.

“The Seine isn’t known for being the cleanest, and you’d be more comfortable without your mission clothes weighing you down,” May tried again, her voice the same soothingly low register as before.

The fact that May wasn’t forcing her to let go, but was trying to persuade her to do it, was what finally made Skye nod in acceptance – Skye didn’t want to do anything that would potentially cause her to overstay her welcome. Not now, after she had grown so attached. And so she reluctantly slipped to the floor, her soaked socks squished loudly as they met the tiles and she wobbled slightly. May steadied her for the umpteenth time that night and guided her to lean against the shower wall for support.

May let go of Skye and took a step back before hesitating. Conflicted emotions battled behind her dark eyes as she watched Skye tiredly rub at her eyes. Finally, she sighed and asked, “Do you need help with your clothes?”

Skye blinked under the hot spray and looked up at May in confusion for a moment before the words registered. Blush thankfully hidden by the flush already suffusing her from the heat, Skye hesitated only momentarily before shaking her head no. Looking up almost shyly at her mentor through her eyelashes, a small yet pleased smile finally settled on her lips at the offer. There was a warm feeling in her chest that she wasn’t altogether familiar with, though she knew it was occurring with increasing frequency in moments like this – when it was just her and May, and the older woman lowered her defenses enough for Skye to slip partially in.

“No. I’ve got it.” Skye’s timid orbs met May’s carefully guarded ones. “Thank you, though. For the offer. I’m not used to…” Skye trailed off uncomfortably before shrugging slightly. “Just thanks.”

May tilted her head and nodded slowly, and Skye was happy that she hadn’t averted her gaze because she was treated to another surprise. May’s eyes softened and a look of almost fond concern flashed across her face for a moment before she retreated once more behind her impassive mask. Her voice, however, was still warmer than usual and oddly gentle.

“I’ll be in the bedroom.” 

The _‘call if you need me’_ unspoken yet appreciated all the same, and Skye’s stomach fluttered warmly again as she responded with a nod. The way May left the bathroom door open a sliver as she retreated into the bedroom as if to reinforce her implied offer left Skye feeling oddly safe instead of uncomfortable. The warm feeling hadn’t retreated and had instead grown pleasantly, causing the hacker to press a hand gently to her stomach with a quizzical frown.

Skye spent the next few minutes like that, leaning against the shower wall with a hand to her stomach and a ponderingly confused expression. Realizing the feeling wasn’t going to go away as fast as usual – though it had faded slightly – Skye blinked and returned to the task at hand. Mentally conceding with a grimace that she could use a good wash, Skye started to disrobe.

Which turned out to be a lot harder than she had expected it to be.

Her mission clothes were tight enough when they were dry, but wet they seemed to be almost glued to her skin. After almost tripping headfirst into the glass shower door and accidentally kneeing the tiled wall, Skye was at the point of seriously considering asking May for help. It was the warm fuzzy feeling from earlier that had her holding her tongue – though pleasant, it was still unfamiliar territory. 

She knew that if she called that May would come, but she also knew that she’d be crossing an unseen line of sorts, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Of course she wanted to know what was on the other side of the line – quite desperately, actually, which was what scared her. She was in a comfortable place at the moment, and despite all the shit that recently went down with HYDRA and Ward and S.H.I.E.L.D imploding and Coulson getting more distant with every passing day, she was happy where she was. 

So she decided that if May wouldn’t cross the line first, Skye would toe it. She’d peek over to the other side and test the waters one little toe at a time, but she’d also guard her heart carefully like she had learned to all those years ago after her experience with the Brody’s. She didn’t believe that May would hurt her intentionally – not like Ward or any of the long string of families that traded her in for a better fit – but every heartbreak chipped her fractured organ even further, and it was getting harder and harder to hold the jagged pieces together.

So Skye cursed silently under her breath as she tiredly and painstakingly peeled her clothes off piece by piece, leaving them carelessly on the shower floor where they dropped. When she was finally completely bare, she stood under the warm spray for a long moment with her eyes closed before starting to move. Reaching for the – unsurprisingly – expensive looking soap, she lathered and rinsed her body before quickly working on her hair.

Tiredness suddenly creeping up on her, Skye yawned before stepping out of the stall. Leaving the shower running for May, Skye half-heartedly dried herself with one of the fluffy white towels before slipping into the equally fluffy bathrobe. Tying the sash in a clumsy knot around her waist – which she could picture May scolding her for – Skye pushed open the bathroom door only to freeze.

May was sitting on the settee across the room in her sports bra, her attention focused downward. Blood liberally soaked her side, painting a gruesome picture that had Skye’s stomach flip-flopping in a completely opposite way from earlier. It was only a brief moment later when May looked up and gave her a quick once-over before nodding did Skye unfreeze, her tiredness once again pushed to the back of her mind.

Skye took a step forward and blurted out loudly, “You’re bleeding!”

“It’s nothing,” May dismissively stated as she turned her attention downward once more, her voice irritatingly bland.

“Nothing?!” Skye’s voice rose an octave as her shock was slowly replaced by a near hysterical accusation. That was _a lot_ of blood. “You’re bleeding! How could you let me hang all over you when you were slowly bleeding to death! Who even does that?!” 

May was silent for a moment, mulling over her words before shrugging lightly and answering with blunt honesty as she reached for the small bottle of alcohol on the table next to her. “I told you, you were my priority. You’re fine, so now I’m taking care of this scratch.”

“Scratch? _That_ is not a-” Skye started heatedly before being cut off.

“ _Skye_. Calm down.” May’s voice was abrupt and firm, her words an order not a request. Skye’s mouth closed with an audible click, though her scowl and furrowed brows continued to clearly showcase her displeasure. May’s voice was still firm when she continued, however the tone of command was once again absent. “I’m fine.”

Skye looked skeptically at the older agent but ultimately nodded to show that she reluctantly acquiesced. Looking at the bloody wound, Skye inched forward and reached out her hand before hesitating and looking into May’s eyes. “Can I…” Skye cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably. “Can I help?”

May tilted her head and gazed at her contemplatively. “Did you finish the First-Aid manual I gave you to read last week?”

“Yeah,” Skye responded.

May nodded and shifted, her arms coming to a rest out of the way. “Think of this as a field test then. What do you do first?”

Skye crouched down and glanced at the materials May had assembled on the small table, before picking up a hand towel and the opened bottle of alcohol. “Clean around the wound and disinfect it?”

May’s eyebrow rose in question. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“Statement,” Skye responded more assertively, slowly slipping from concerned friend to studious pupil. At May’s gesturing nod towards her wound, Skye began pouring some of the alcohol onto the towel only to freeze at a slight shake of the head.

Responding to Skye’s deer-in-the-headlights look, May quickly explained before the girl could blame herself for doing something wrong. “It’s not a bad cut, but there’s a lot of blood obscuring the wound, so it’d be faster to just pour the alcohol on directly.”

Skye slowly nodded and bit her lip. Bringing the bottle closer, she tilted it and watched as the alcohol ran over May’s skin, the clear liquid turning pink and bubbling as it washed away the blood. The only indication the older woman made of being aware of what was occurring was the slightly louder than usual inhale, much to Skye’s amazement. If it were her she’d most likely be crying like a baby by this point. 

Dabbing around the area, Skye had to admit that the wound was smaller than she had first thought, though it did look kind of deep. From what she could tell, it was more of a stab wound that a slash. Looking from May’s watchful eyes to the objects on the table, Skye hesitated. “Um…”

“What’s next?” May prompted after another moment of silence.

“Stitches and a bandage to keep it closed and clean, I guess, but since we don’t have any stitches…” Skye trailed off uncertainly.

“What else can be used as a substitute?” May asked, causing Skye to look closely at the table again before balking.

“You don’t mean…” Skye gestured helplessly towards the plain office stapler.

May nodded. “Two should do it. Disinfect it first.”

Skye swallowed and reached for the stapler. Dousing the end and the staples within with the rest of the alcohol, Skye brought the instrument close to May’s side. She wasn’t aware that her hand was shaking slightly until May’s own hand wrapped gently around her own. Looking up, she was treated once more with an understanding look.

“I can finish,” May offered kindly.

“No,” Skye responded, surprising the both of them with the strength and immediacy of her reply. “No. I want to help.”

May searched her eyes before nodding and releasing Skye’s hand. Resolve in place once more, Skye gently held the edges of the wound together before carefully lining up and placing the stapler against her skin. Breathing deeply, she firmly pressed down on the mechanism and flinched at the sound as the staple was embedded in May’s skin. Quickly repeating the action, this time slightly lower, Skye dropped the stapler onto the table as if it were piping hot. Dabbing lightly around the wound with the towel once more, she quickly taped the bandage in place.

Job done, Skye went to stand up only to falter and freeze as she felt a hand settle briefly atop her head before moving to brush her unruly bangs behind her ear. Looking up at May as the hand drifted down to gently squeeze her shoulder, she was only slightly startled to be rewarded with another soft and unguarded expression.

“You did well,” May said, her lips quirked up into a small pleased smile.

Ducking her head in shy acceptance of the praise, Skye let herself fall the few inches forward and placed her forehead against May’s thigh. It was slightly uncomfortable at first due to the wet pants resting coldly against her skin, but when May’s hand trailed back up to rub gently and soothingly against her head and the back of her neck Skye forgot about all of that and relaxed fully with a tired sigh.

They stayed like that for a few long minutes, Skye dozing lightly with her eyes closed and May softly and almost reverently caressing her. Neither of them wanted to break the comfortable silence that had settled upon them, but May eventually reached down and squeezed Skye’s shoulder again.

“Hmm?” Skye mumbled questioningly.

“I need to go get cleaned up,” May explained almost apologetically as she shifted and guided Skye back onto her feet. “You’re tired, you should go to sleep.”

“Hmm.” Skye frowned and cracked her eyes open blearily.

In a repeat of earlier, May supported a good deal of Skye’s weight as she lead the half-asleep girl to the bed. Turning down one side, she helped Skye onto the mattress before bringing the blankets up snuggly.

Skye frowned and peeked an eye tiredly open as May retreated to the washroom. Wiggling around, she sighed in exhausted frustration as she couldn’t get comfortable, despite the mattress being plushier than she could have imagined before that night. Settling on her back with a huff, she gazed unseeingly up at the ceiling.

As soon as May climbed into the other side of the bed a good twenty minutes later, Skye rolled over and threw an arm around May’s waist causing the older agent to stiffen. Recoiling immediately, Skye’s eyes shot open in panic. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to-”

May’s arm snaked out and stopped Skye’s retreat, instead bringing Skye flush against her body once more. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Skye asked dubiously even as her body betrayed her by wiggling slightly closer. “Is that like you and Coulson fine, or normal people fine? Because there’s a big difference between the two.”

“I’m fine, Skye,” May repeated as she shifted slightly as well, her hand resting firmly against Skye’s back. She changed the subject. “Sleep. Tripp will be by to retrieve us in the morning.”

“Is he okay? What happened?” Skye’s head shot up as she asked guiltily, suddenly realizing that she had barely thought of their absent teammate all night. She only narrowly avoided head-butting her S.O.

“He’s fine,” May replied somewhat crossly as she guided Skye’s head back down, forgoing the pillow to instead tuck her head beneath May’s chin. “Hunter, on the other hand, is dead.”

“What?!” Skye’s eyes popped open again though her head was immobilized. “How?!”

“I don’t know yet. I’m sure I’ll think of something fitting,” May muttered as her hand started to make slow circles against Skye’s back. She felt the younger girl relax into her almost immediately. “I told him not to touch my plane.”

“Oh,” Skye yawned, a tired sort of relieved snort-giggle escaping her lips moments later. She wasn't close to Hunter by any means, but she had soon too much death recently. Nuzzling further into May’s neck where the robe fell open, the skin slightly damp yet soft and warm, Skye mumbled tiredly in a sing-song voice. “Hunter’s in _trou-ble_.”

“Yes he is. Go to sleep.”

“Better him than me,” Skye yawned again before becoming completely limp like a noodle in May’s embrace, the slow methodical circles against her back a sure-fire way to lull her to sleep.

Feeling the soft press of lips against her head a few minutes later, Skye hazily hummed and brushed her lips against May’s neck in response. Safe and warm, all tangled up in May, Skye wondered at the line with her last vestiges of consciousness, and whether or not she had made the right decision. Because as she fell asleep with her toes across and her eyes peeking forward through the veil, Skye couldn’t help but admit to herself that she liked what she saw.

And what she saw, was May.

**0-o-0-o-0**

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make a sequel. Maybe include Phil or Hunter. And because I belatedly realized that not everyone speaks French (though please excuse my grammar if you do, I haven’t actually written in French since a few years back in high school, and those years have been firmly repressed), here are some translations.
> 
> “Ah, bonjour Mademoiselle.” – Ah, good day Miss.  
> “As-tu un réservation?” – Do you have a reservation?  
> “Oui.” – Yes.  
> “Sous Mason.” – Under Mason.  
> “Ah, oui. Un moment sil-vous plaît.” – Ah, yes. One moment please.  
> “Très bien, Mademoiselle Mason. Ton numéro de chambre est-” – Very good, Miss Mason. Your room number is-  
> “Merci.” – Thank you.


End file.
